Heaven's Tears
by Wind Chijmes
Summary: (Yaoi, Hak/Goj, angst, mild lemon) Rain, painful memories, two men unable to sleep...Feedback appreciated!


Heaven's Tears

Pairing : Hakkai x Gojyo Rating : R Warnings : Yaoi, angst, mild lemon, possible OOC Disclaimer : Saiyuki belongs to Minekura Kazuya and associated affiliates. NOT ME. Please don't sue. Spoilers : Mild spoilers for their pasts A/N : My first Saiyuki fic. Hope you enjoy it! Feedback most appreciated. 

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The pregnant skies were stained a strange greyish red, and the smell of brimstone hung heavy in the air. The rain was relentless, drumming like silver needles on the rooftops, each splatter echoed a thousand times. Some people say the rains were heaven's tears, wept for the folly of mankind. 

He never believed that saying. If the heavens ever cried for mankind, he thought, those tears would be of laughter. He would laugh too, if he were up there looking down at the workings of the mortal world. 

A zigzag bolt of lightning patterned across the strange-coloured sky, and a crack of thunder followed, mingling with the roar of the downpour. 

He leaned his head against the frame of the window and stared up at the laughing skies. He could see the descent of each droplet, lancing downwards like a silver arrow. Some of them wetted his face, but it mattered little to him. 

He hated rain. Maybe that was why it always rained when his memories were at their most painful. A heavenly joke, cracked at his expense. 

Couldn't sleep, huh? 

He smiled without turning his head. You too, Gojyo? 

Yes, for it was Gojyo behind him. No one else had the same lazy drawl that could sound both teasing and haunting at the same time. He heard the half-demon make a noise that sounded like a cross between affirmation and disgust. 

It's raining, Hakkai. 

It wasn't just a statement. It was said in a hushed whisper, like a shared secret. Hakkai slowly turned. 

The room was unlit, saved from complete darkness only by the lone streetlamp that hung on a tall pole outside the inn they were staying in. Still, it was so dim that all Hakkai could make of the other man was a blur of shadow. Hakkai strained his eyes. It helped then, when a flash of lightning illuminated the entire room for a brief surreal moment. And in that moment, Hakkai saw the tall figure braced against the doorway, one hand holding aside the taupe that masqueraded as a makeshift door. 

Aren't you tired of standing? Hakkai said mildly. 

The other man laughed; a low, throaty sound. 

Hakkai knew he was approaching; he heard the swish of the taupe as it fell back into place. He imagined the air shifting, opening up to allow Gojyo through, and closing again in his wake. The shadows seemed to be moving as well, casting patterns of changing grey and black. He felt a depression on the mattress he sat on, and the warmth that permeated from the second presence. 

Gojyo moved into the small patch of light thrown in from the wan streetlamp. When do you think it'd stop? He said, peering up into the skies. 

Not soon enough. Hakkai said quietly. He studied his friend intently. The pale-yellow light had tinged Gojyo's crimson hair into a burnished wine-red. 

Do you remember, three years ago, Gojyo suddenly turned his head and looked right at Hakkai. That night. It was raining just like this? 

Even his eyes looked wine-red. Hakkai couldn't help noticing. I remember. He said, and meant it. How could he not? He suddenly saw himself three years ago, sprawled in a pool of blood and mud, more dead than alive. 

Your guts were all over the place. Gojyo's lips curved into a wide grin. 

I was a mess. Hakkai agreed ruefully. It earned him a chuckle from the red-haired man. 

The laughter subsided almost as quickly as it had sounded. Hakkai tried to concentrate his thoughts back on the neverending rain. There were silences between them before, but those were comfortable silences. This felt like an awkward wait for one of them to break the quiet. 

He heard the pain in that tone. 

my hair and my eyes still look like blood to you? 

Him. He was the cause of that pain. He stared back at Gojyo, unable to look away from those wide, half-hopeful, half-despaired eyes. Exactly like Kanan's just before she had plunged the knife into her chest. He was still trapped in the whirl of bloodstained recollections when a pair of eyes, as red as those memories, loomed right before him. 

They still do, don't they? 

Yes, they still did. He would never say it, but even though he could feel the anguish in those eyes, he couldn't see past the stark scarlet red. He watched Gojyo rear back, visibly shaken, and his chest swelled with an ache that was familiar yet dulled over time. Gojyo always came to his room on nights like this, when the rains fell and covered the landscape in a wash of bleakness. These were the only moments, fleeting as they were, that came close to something like comfort. For one, or both of them? Hakkai closed his eyes briefly. Each time Gojyo asked that question, he had no answer. 

"Hakkai?"

He slowly opened his eyes. Gojyo's face was turned away from him, obscured by a fall of crimson hair. All that was visible were the curve of that scarred cheek - wounds that he knew had cut far deeper into the heart than they did on the skin. The sounds of the ceaseless storm drummed around them. Hakkai smiled mirthlessly. They both needed whatever comfort they could draw from each other tonight. Not quite sure of what he was doing, or whether his mind was still in control of body, he felt himself reach out and cup the half-demon's face in his hands. The skin was soft over the angularities of cheekbones and jaw; the double scars seemed to burn beneath his hands. 

Gojyo's eyes rounded into scarlet discs. His lips moved as they shaped his name. 

He drew the face nearer and covered those lips with his own. Gojyo's mouth was firm, yet pliable beneath his, lips parting in a gasp. He swallowed that sound, and more gurgles of surprise even as his hands found broad shoulders and manoeuvred them so Gojyo was lying back on the mattress. He broke the rough kiss to look down at the panting redhead. Then, he shifted his gaze to the window. 

It's not going to stop soon, Gojyo. He said softly. 

The rain, the burden of their pasts, or their mission to end the world's chaos? He himself wasn't sure which he meant. Maybe onemaybe all. 

Feels like old times', huh? 

He looked back at Gojyo. The half-demon was smiling, a bitter one, but it was a smile just the same. His shoulders were relaxed against the mattress; eyes half-lidded in an expression that was curiously accepting. 

Hakkai felt something die within him. He knew all along, part of him anyway, that Gojyo would accede. That no matter what happened, Gojyo would accept simply because he had accepted before. How had things between them become this way? When had they become this way? Hakkai stretched out his hand and tangled his fingers in the rivers of crimson hair that flowed on the mattress. 

I'm sorry, Hakkai. 

Hakkai leaned down crushed his mouth to Gojyo's. //Because I'm the one who should be sorry.//

There was no real emotion in the kiss, but a raw hunger that allowed them to believe that perhaps they could consume each other's pain like this. 

Piece by piece, their clothing was tugged free of their bodies, disappearing somewhere in the dimness. Hakkai stretched himself over the supine body beneath his. Gojyo was much too slender for his height, but his form was roped with long muscles and hardened from battle. Hakkai knew his own body felt the same. There was nothing soft or sweet in a meeting with another man. 

He closed his mouth over a dusky nipple, sucking and teasing until it hardened. Gojyo arched under him, gasps smothered by a clamping of teeth over bottom lip. He released the nub, tracking his mouth over lean planes of chest and abdomen to dip his tongue into the navel. 

His eyes flicked up to meet Gojyo's. The half-demon was grimacing from efforts to keep quiet, his teeth drawing blood from its unrelenting clench on his lip. Hakkai lifted his head to taste the reddened lips, and the coppery taste of blood was sharp on his tongue. 

When they broke apart, Hakkai searched blindly with one hand for the vial he knew was among the meagre contents of the group's baggage. Gojyo watched him wordlessly, eyes burning with both hunger and anticipation. 

The vial in hand, Hakkai turned his head, catching Gojyo's crimson gaze with his own. As they watched each other, a calloused palm rose up to his face, the fingers grazing the corner of his seeing eye. 

Like grass. Gojyo said in a whisper so bare it could hardly be heard. 

There was something so child-like in the way Gojyo said those words that it made him look away. His fingers shaking, he quickly tipped the fluid from the vial and onto his hand. It was gun-oil, but it would have to do. He reached for his erection, breath hitching at the pleasure of his own touch. He couldn't wait any longer. His hands gripping wells into Gojyo's hips, he pushed inside in one hard thrust. 

Uttering a low cry, Gojyo's head tossed back, his body arching like a bow. Hakkai dug his fingers even deeper into skin, his own body quivering uncontrollably from *not* moving, as he waited for Gojyo's agony to pass. Their breathing was ragged; great tearing gasps wrenched from them as they held each other. 

please, Hak Gojyo's legs rose and curled over Hakkai's shoulders. 

He gritted his teeth and moved. Long, slow thrusts at first, seeking the rhythm that could ease the union, until he could hold back no longer and gave himself to his need. 

The mattress heaved with their moving bodies. Hakkai drove back and forth into the tight clench around him, his mind only just coherent enough to slide a hand between them to curve around heated flesh, stroking it in time to their coupling. Gojyo's eyes were clenched shut, hair strewn in dampened strings across his face, as he lifted his hips to meet each thrust. 

They lost themselves to the ceaseless pace, urged on towards the completion they both needed so badly. For this night, it did feel like they were outside of the world, with only the unbearable pain and pleasure of flesh, the pounding of blood in their ears, and the dull roar of the merciless rain as accompaniment. And when release finally did come within grasp, they clutched wildly at it, low cries shuddering through the strangely still air. 

They lay side by side, not touching, yet not quite distanced. Gojyo was the first to stir, twisting to one side and rummaging through the spilled contents of their baggage. 

There was a faint click, and without having to look, Hakkai knew the other was lighting a cigarette. 

You know, Hakkai, Gojyo's voice sliced through the haziness of the room like a machete. You didn't answer my question. 

Hakkai turned his head. He could just make out Gojyo's features in the irregular criss-cross shards of wan yellow light. The half-demon's expression was unreadable, but Hakkai imagined it to be somewhere between pensiveness and tired wryness. The butt of the cigarette glowed in the dimness; tendrils of smoke rose between them like a wispy curtain. 

I didn't. Hakkai heard himself say. 

Slowly, the corners of Gojyo's lips turned up in a sad smile. 

They both knew what Hakkai's answer would have been anyway. 

Hakkai stretched a hand towards his friend's face. 

For a brief moment, two sets of eyes, one a bottomless green and the other a pained scarlet, watched the hand suspended between them. 

The red-haired man recoiled at the last moment. I'd better go back. That little monkey might wake up and think I'm kidnapped. Gojyo said casually, adding a chuckle for good measure. Yet, there was just the slightest tremor in his voice as he continued. The usual, Hakkai. Tonight never happened. 

Hakkai had no words to that. He tried to smile as carelessly as Gojyo had done but it died on lips before it could even form. He lay still even as the weight next to him on the mattress eased. A few movements in the dark, the only presence left in the room was his own. 

He listened for a long time, straining his ears, just to hear the faint footfalls fade away into nothingness. 

Tonight never happened. 

He had lost count of nights that never happened. 

He thought about the next morning, like every morning, and how Gojyo would greet him with his usual flippancy, how he would bicker over food with Goku, fight with Sanzo over the littlest matters. Hakkai thought about himself, driving the jeep, worrying about the welfare of everyone. 

It all ran like clockwork. 

And they could always do it because the nights didn't happen. The nights were non-existent just so the days could function. 

A bubble of mirth started deep in his guts, quickly rising in him until it burst free in a wild peal of laughter. He didn't know what was really so funny but he laughed anyway, and he couldn't stop. He had to cover his face with his hand to smother the giggles. Are you laughing too? He wanted to scream at the heavens. Because he sure was. 

His hand came away wet. 

And still, the rains fell. 

~*~ fin ~*~  
April 2003


End file.
